Profit Sharing
by Georgshadow
Summary: Ferengi smut with mentions of alien sexual anatomy, because the internet is lacking in that category. Quark/Pel with mentions of Quark/Natima. Missing scene from "Rules of Acquisition." Before she leaves Deep Space Nine, Pel gets a little more from Quark than ten bars of latinum.


"_I guess if I can't have you, I'll take those ten bars of latinum after all."_

"_Well… maybe you can have me, too."_

* * *

Seeing her sitting in his quarters, sans the false lobes but fully dressed like a man, he was still uneasy.

"How long have you been doing this?" he asked her, grasping for something to say. "Wearing _clothes_?"

"I haven't even undressed for days," she shrugged.

"I mean _years_, you insolent…" he sighed, still unable to summon sincere anger at her. "Female."

"Since I was little," she replied. "My father didn't care if I put on my brother's clothes. After my mother died, he was totally content to let me do exactly as I wished until I matured enough for him to marry me off." She huffed softly and rolled her eyes. "The home world is a terrible place to grow up."

Quark couldn't stand to hear her, or anyone, speak ill of Ferenginar. "Well, I'm not your father," he said, firmly. "And while I respect the vulgar, offensive laws these humons force you to conform to while we're on the promenade, you're in my quarters now."

"And?"

"Get those clothes off this instant." Saying it felt so strange. Certainly he'd been dominant with women when he'd been on the home world, but he'd lived abroad so long, amongst so many alien women, he knew his voice sounded stilted and his words forced. In his life, assertiveness with women had become obsolete.

At his hesitation, she pursed her lips and folded her arms. "If you want me undressed, you'll have to come over here and do it yourself."

Oh, it had been so very, very long since he'd been with a Ferengi woman! He wasn't entirely sure how to react. "Is that an invitation?" Then, pondering the unintimidated stare she gave him, he added, "Or a challenge?"

"Come find out."

At this, he could feel his heart begin to beat harder. Yes, it had been far too long since he'd been with a Ferengi woman. Even then, the women he'd known back home were so unlike Pel. While it was certainly illegal and just plain cruel to take advantage of a woman, it was also true that a woman should never ask for it, let alone demand it. Not a Ferengi woman at least.

_What are you, a barbarian?_ he wanted to ask her. _Were you raised by Klingons? _But he couldn't bring himself to speak yet. He could barely look at her as he crossed the room and edged closer to her.

"What are you waiting for?" she breathed, staring right at him, daring him to tell her to avert her eyes like a well-behaved female should.

"Do as you're told," he tried.

She laughed out loud, but uncrossed her arms. Maintaining her steely gaze, she leaned back on the bed, bracing herself on her palms, baring herself to him.

Quark wrung his hands. He studied her body, its soft curves hidden away under layers of binding cloth. How clever she was, he thought, at last giving in and easing a wary hand to her, that she'd hidden herself so well. Of course, he'd always thought the waiter had been especially feminine, but with the full, masculine lobes he hadn't given it a second thought. It wasn't until their journey to the gamma quadrant when they'd been alone together for so long that her soft lips and tender gray eyes had become any sort of problem.

The fact of the matter was that she was a lovely young woman. Indeed, she'd made a lovely young man, too. Of course he knew that there were men who preferred men, and while he certainly wasn't one who did, he could admit to himself now that he'd been attracted to Pel even before he'd known she was a woman. She was so clever, so cunning, so devious—the truth was that he'd never known even a man who lived so strictly by the Rules. Her vigor and zeal were contagious, and even before she'd kissed him, he'd known that sooner or later, he'd find himself unable to resist her.

If only their lives were different. If only it weren't illegal for her to wear clothes and earn profit. If only he could be with her without losing favor with every other Ferengi in the alpha quadrant.

"The profit we could've earned together," he sighed sadly.

Suddenly, still meeting his eyes, her hand flew to his, grasped his wrist firmly, and jerked him hard until he was stooped to her height.

"We'll never see each other again after this," she said, any sadness in her voice masked with a sudden fervency. "Give me a night to remember."

If she were any other Ferengi woman he would have recoiled. He would have hissed in disgust and slinked away, ashamed to even know such a female. But he could never deny her. He could never turn away from such prospect. There was no profit in women—often, he found, they were a liability rather than an asset. Pel herself had cost him all his gamma quadrant earnings just by being hot-headed and impulsive like the female she was. And yet he wanted her, so badly he couldn't stand it.

At last giving in, he freed his hand from her grasp and let himself gingerly touch the fabric of her jacket, his heart skipping a beat at the thought of the collarbone that lay just beneath it.

Pel's eyelids lowered and she tilted her head back, allowing him to loosely cup her neck and trace his fingers all around the collar of her shirt. All at once he had to fight himself to keep from letting loose and feeling everything with both hands—the arousal burgeoning within him was just not quite strong enough to overpower the desire to savor something so fleeting and wonderful.

"The other waiters talked about you sometimes," Pel spoke softly as Quark sank onto the bed next to her and moved his hand from her neck down to her shoulder. "Prek said he'd heard that you make alien women keep their clothes on during sex, too."

He could feel his lobes turn red and he bent to kiss her neck so she couldn't see the chagrin on his face. "He said that?"

"Mmmhmm," she sighed and kissed the top of his head. Then, delicately, she traced her middle finger along one of his lobes. "Old habits die hard, don't they?"

The touch felt good enough that he couldn't be bothered to roll his eyes at the humon idiom. He leaned into her hand and groaned, hoping to encourage a firmer caress. "That's it, Pel," he mumbled, but stopped as he remembered that a Ferengi woman would hardly need to be coached regarding what to do.

"Will you…" her suave tone wavered slightly as she spoke, "Will you give me oo-mox, too? Please?"

"I'll give you something better than oo-mox," he replied, relieved at last to have the upper hand. He turned away from her and clambered further up onto the bed, gesturing for her to follow him.

"Nothing is better than oo-mox," she sighed dreamily, leaning over him. "Except latinum."

Quark desperately tried to ignore the twang in his heart at that comment. The heartbroken thoughts of how ridiculously perfect they were for each other would have to be saved for when she was halfway across the gamma quadrant. For now he was happy to pull her into a tight embrace and kiss her, to uninhibitedly purr into her open mouth as he ran his hands all over her back and feel her slight body through her many layers of clothes.

Of course, Prek was absolutely right. The waiter would have to take a pay cut for gossiping about his boss, especially since the gossip was true. But how could anybody have sex completely naked? He could hardly keep an erection at the sight of a naked woman. What thrill was there if everything was in plain sight? What stimulation? To run one's hands over a companion's body, to visualize the warm skin, the shapes and curves that lay hidden beneath… simply put, to a Ferengi, the need to see a partner naked during sex was uncreative, superficial, and all too offensively _humon_.

"Quark?" Pel's voice cut through his melancholy pondering. She pulled away from his kiss and met his eyes. "I, uh…"

"Alright, alright." Her impatience was endearing. "How about some oo-lem? Would you like that?"

"Well," she blushed and looked away. "If it would make you happy. I'm not good at it, though."

"I meant for you," he smiled. "I told you, I'd give you something better than oo-mox."

"I…" suddenly all of her authoritative, certain personality was gone. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Don't worry about that," he said, putting on the same tone he'd use on a frustrated customer. "I know what I'm doing. Just lay back."

Pel nodded silently and did as he instructed. Seeing her clothed body prone on his bed in such a way made his blood pump so hard he could have sworn he could hear his own heartbeat. He knelt over her and kissed her, moving his mouth from her lips to her neck and down her chest. Ever so reluctantly he unbuttoned her jacket and shirt, opening his eyes only enough to watch her face for a reaction as he eased his hands under the clothes over her bare skin. Her breasts were delightfully soft in his hands and he sighed aloud wondering whether her nipples were the same soft color as her lips. Knowing he might never find out made him throb so hard his hands shook as he unbuckled her suspenders and sat up enough to ease down her trousers.

He forced himself to close his eyes as his fingertips brushed over the uppermost wrinkles on her stomach. Much like his own, they were already partially swollen, and as he worked her pants down over her hips he could feel the delicate skin growing harder under his touch. With his eyes still firmly shut he stood long enough to peel her pants off along with her boots, scrambling back onto the bed to smooth his open palms over her thighs and hips.

"You're lovely," he muttered, imagining her nude legs as he moved his hand back to the wrinkles under her navel. "You know that? You're so beautiful."

"Quark," she whispered.

"Yes, darling?" he answered, caressing each velvety fold of skin, slowly working his way further down her belly, stopping only to guide her legs apart and settle comfortably between her knees.

"I've never known a man who would do this for a woman," she said, her voice nearly cracking. "Not a Ferengi man at least."

He stopped and tried to think of something to say, but all at once he was lost for words. "I'm not like every other man," he tried finally.

"No, you're not," she said. "That's why I fell for you. That and your sexy, sexy lobes." She punctuated it by bringing her hands to his ears and gently running her fingertips along the sensitive edge, moving all the way from his jaw to the top of his brow.

"Mmm, d-don't get me too excited," he said, vowing to stay focused. Had she really never heard of a man who would give oo-lem? Perhaps it wasn't so far-fetched. He himself had never even considered it until he'd been with Natima Lang. Their bodies had been too different, too incompatible. Her cloaca was too small and too fragile to take his wel-seeh without hurting the both of them, and she'd been more than willing to teach him how to please her in a different way. The skill had been quite an asset with other alien women, and he wondered now whether he was the only Ferengi man in this quadrant who knew how to do it for a woman.

He bent his neck and softly kissed the hardening wrinkles on Pel's stomach, thinking about the way the ones inside her da-jum would feel, too. That and the expert ministrations on his ears was enough to make him thrust his hips against the edge of the bed. He licked his lips and craned his neck further, using his fingers to hold apart the lowest wrinkles and have a first, hesitant taste.

The remarkable smell and flavor of her made him shake. Yes, it had been inexcusably long since he'd been with another Ferengi. Even the most beautiful aliens had nothing on his own people. His body and his chemistry simply matched hers. He at last allowed himself to open his eyes again as he continued, marveling at the rise and fall of her chest, the inexperienced but eager look on her face.

Natima had told him some complicated Cardassian name for that small little organ he was interested in finding, and he'd heard Bajoran women discuss it, too, but the universal translator never made sense of the words. There was no term for it in his own language, but it was there on Pel despite that. Part of him had wondered if she even had one, if it even existed on Ferengi women at all. That was the real tragedy of it all; it wasn't bizarre that Pel had never experienced oo-lem because no man would ever think she would want it.

To her credit, Pel never stopped rubbing his ears. Despite how good he was—and he knew he was good because he trusted that Natima knew what she was talking about when she _said_ he was good—she never wavered. Even when she was gritting her teeth and spreading her legs wider for him and mewling so delightfully, she moved her thumbs so skillfully up and down his burning lobes. But he could feel her wrinkles getting more swollen by the minute and he knew his were, too. He wanted to make her finish, drive her to leh-tzoo, but he couldn't deny his selfish need to have her himself and feel her da-jum tighten and lock around him.

"Quark…" she sighed when he reluctantly stopped and sat back on his haunches to take off his jacket and pull down his trousers to his knees. Pel sat up and grabbed for his wel-seeh, pushing back the hardening sheath of wrinkled skin as far as it would still go and opening her mouth around the exposed head.

"No, there isn't time for that," he said, almost sadly. He looked down at her and met her eyes. Her face and ears were flushed brilliant red with arousal. She was so agonizingly beautiful, he thought. It was a shame that she'd hidden her perfect, small lobes underneath rubber fakes for so long. They were so sweet and round, he wanted to kiss each of them a hundred times while they counted their latinum together.

But he couldn't let himself think like that. He pulled off his blouse and tossed it off along with his jacket, and he took her hands and eased her back onto the bed. Settling between her legs, he kissed her again, their teeth grazing each other's lips roughly. Her mouth was so perfect, and her body was too. He ran his hands over her remaining clothes, feeling the curves that were still shrouded, hidden underneath.

"Pel," he breathed her name into the collar of her jacket.

"Hurry, Quark," she replied, bringing her ankles around his thighs. "I can feel it starting…"

"Okay, okay," he said, scrambling to hold his wel-seeh and force his way inside her before it was too late. She was already so tight and swollen—he couldn't bother to stifle the whimper that escaped his lips. There had been so many alien women in his life, so many Bajorans, a Cardassian, a Boslic, even a woman who he was almost certain had been a humon, but he was sure in that moment that none in the galaxy compared to the women of Ferenginar.

She was right, the leh-tzoo had already begun. Probably when he'd given her oo-lem, he told himself. It was a miracle she'd managed to hold off at all. He braced himself on his elbows and frantically thrust into her while he still could, crying out with each movement as her da-jum became tighter and tighter around him. The feeling of their sensitive belly wrinkles rubbing against each other was endlessly erotic. Pel's arms wrapped around him and pulled him closer, and she mirrored his movements as long as she could, until at last she dug her nails into his back and her da-jum clenched hard, her inner wrinkles lodging between his and effectively locking their bodies together.

Quark threw back his head and howled aloud at the sensation. How long had it been since he'd had this experience, since he'd had sex the way his body was truly intended to? He bunched Pel's jacket in his fists and buried his face in the crook of her neck, shaking all over as he finished deep within her body. Beneath him he could feel the tremors in Pel's muscles matching him, and he knew her distinctive wailing echoed his own. Even that was better with a Ferengi woman—he knew there would be no offensive questions afterward about whether all Ferengi "make that god-awful noise when they come."

He collapsed on top of her as they came down from the leh-tzoo. Too exhausted to make any more noise, he was content to wait for the wrinkles to soften again and release him from her body, however long it would take. There was none of that with aliens either, of course. Most women weren't even willing to respect the time of rest following sex, even if he explained its importance. Sometimes he wondered if aliens even knew how to be tender or romantic, or if their sex lives were as barbaric as everything else about them.

"Quark," Pel whispered after they had both one quiet. She wriggled enough to stretch an arm and reach up to tiredly one of his ears as she kissed him on the other.

"Mmm," he sighed and did the same, nearly melting to feel her smaller ear between his fingers. "Next time, you can give me oo-lem, too."

She somberly shook her head. "I have to leave after this. I shouldn't have stayed at all."

"You're right," he said, trying to ignore the heartache welling deep inside him by moving to kiss her lips and rub both of her ears. "It's just that I've missed this, you know?"

"I don't," she replied, speaking against his lips. "But I know I will. I really do love you, Quark."

"I know," he said. "I wish you'd reconsider this ridiculous life you're choosing to lead and be my wife."

"I'd only get you into more trouble," she said, sadly. "Anyway, there will be other women."

"But not the right women," he said. "Not Ferengi women. Not unless I'm on Ferenginar."

"There's no need to go back there," she said.

He frowned at her, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Do you really think I'm the only woman who left?" she grinned. "I know you're smarter than that."

He snorted and grinned. "You're telling me there's other females out there like you? Women masquerading as men, earning profit right out in the open?"

"How long did I live here and work right under your nose?" she replied. "Just think, any man on this station might really be a woman in disguise. Me, or Fon, or Drix… maybe even Prek."

"Prek? Ha! That's ridiculous," he said.

"Don't be so sure," she laughed. "Until a day ago you didn't even know that _I'm_ a woman."

"Well…" he had nothing to say to that, so instead he tried, "I don't suppose you want that latinum anymore now."

"Now you're being ridiculous!" she said, giving him a playful pinch on the ear. "But I'm going to miss you anyway." She punctuated it with a long, deep kiss.

"Me too, Pel. Me too," he said when it was over, quelling some of his sadness by making a mental note to keep an eye on Prek from now on…


End file.
